Rise

I’d shake your hand but as you see

(ha ha). My name is Mrs. Grubb.

Welcome to the neighborhood.

A new face is a joy round here.

They come and then they disappear

 

All the time. So welcome the new

And remember the old, the ones who rise.

I may rise myself someday.

You’d not think so to look at me,

But still it is a possibility.

 

And yet I’d miss this old beguiling earth.

That’s all my wisdom in a bit of verse.

 

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Latest Comments

Rosy Cole Florence
17 June 2020
Thank you for your delightful comment. It is good to reflect on a way of life that has been lost.
Stephen Evans Florence
16 June 2020
Enjoyed this so much. Charming, evocative, and lyrical.
Monika Schott PhD Farm Reflections: Lands faraway
15 June 2020
Thanks Rosy. The story had to be told and I've been the fortunate person to be able to tell it. The ...
Stephen Evans Milton: A Limerick
15 June 2020
Helpful context
Rosy Cole Farm Reflections: Lands faraway
15 June 2020
Monika has taken us on a wonderfully illuminating journey, full of interest and humanity. We are so ...